Fair is foul, and foul is fair. Let’s fly away through the fog and filthy air.
the war is finally over.
Good sir, why do you start and seem to fear Things that do sound so fair? I' th'name of truth,Are ye fantastical, or that indeed Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner You greet with present grace and great prediction Of noble having and of royal hope,That he seems rapt withal. To me you speak not.If you can look into the seeds of time And say which grain will grow and which will not,Speak, then, to me, who neither beg nor fear Your favors nor your hate.
Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more.By Sinel’s death I know I am thane of Glamis.But how of Cawdor? The thane of Cawdor lives,A prosperous gentleman, and to be kingStands not within the prospect of belief,No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whenceYou owe this strange intelligence, or whyUpon this blasted heath you stop our wayWith such prophetic greeting. Speak, I charge you
O worthiest cousin, The sin of my ingratitude even now Was heavy on me. Thou art so far before That swiftest wing of recompense is slow To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved, That the proportion both of thanks and payment Might have been mine! Only I have left to say, More is thy due than more than all can pay.
The service and the loyalty I owe In doing it pays itself. Your highness' part Is to receive our duties, and our duties Are to your throne and state children and servants, Which do but what they should, by doing everything Safe toward your love and honor.
O, never Shall sun that morrow see! Your face, my thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters. To beguile the time, Look like the time. Bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue. Look like th' innocent flower, But be the serpent under ’t. He that’s coming Must be provided for; and you shall put This night’s great business into my dispatch, Which shall to all our nights and days to come Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
My dearest love, Duncan comes here tonight., leaving tomorrow